


Favourite Cousin

by Yalu



Series: Saving People [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Fix-It, Gen, Protective Parents, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yalu/pseuds/Yalu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean can't protect Kevin from a danger he isn't in yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favourite Cousin

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during Chapter Four of [Saving People](http://archiveofourown.org/series/257308).

_Neighbour, Michigan_

The playground wasn't hard to find; this was one of those new neighbourhoods, all designed before the first wall went up, everything pretty much identical, spaced out evenly so about the same number of picket-fence families would use each of the playgrounds; all they needed to know was the address, and they had that. There were one or two other possibles, but these were the kinds of neighbourhoods where everyone got all chummy with each other and had barbeques every Sunday in summer, where everyone was in summer dresses and Ben would run by laughing with his–

Dean shook himself, hard, and stepped out of the car. 

Cas was already out, leaning back on the passenger door and trying to study the kids casually. Dean snorted. "You look like a predator, man. Come on."

His face definitely got a bit red as he hurried to catch up with Dean. "It's difficult to tell which of these children is Kevin. If I had all my grace I could more easily look for his soul–"

"Don't start that, we're doing fine so far. Besides, even if we can't figure out which little Asian kid he is out of..." Dean looked over his shoulder at the playground "...okay, a lot of little Asian kids, there's one way to know for sure."

"And that is?"

They strolled up to a park bench alongside the playground, close enough to see faces sitting in the grass on the other side but far enough to be out of the circle of parents. "His dad's long dead already. Guess who he's here with."

Cas's face smoothed into a fond smile. "Mrs Tran."

"Bingo." Dean leaned back on the bench, balancing his arms on the rest on either side. Cas slumped back and nearly pinched his thumb. Dean moved his hand.

Chances were, they might not see the kid. They'd been by the Tran house already and the school he was enrolled at, but there were a million places they didn't know about to check, and wouldn't be able to if they were going to get to Lawrence in time. Kevin and Mrs T could be shopping or at the doctor's or a tutor's or on vacation – Dean had no idea what they'd been up to this long ago, and if he had to admit it, it didn't really matter. There was nothing out to kill them yet, and never would be if everything went to plan, so there was nothing he or Cas could _do_ right now to protect them. 

They didn't need to be here, but there was no way Dean could drive by without giving it a shot.

Suddenly Cas chuckled. He shook his head and leaned over like he did when he found something really funny, not morose funny or whatever fatalistic crap he had in his head, but not all-out belly laughing either. At Dean's 'what?' look, he just shook his head again.

"I'm reminded of the first time you and I sat on a bench like this. At a park, in the sun, watching a town's children play."

_Man, you softie_. Dean rolled his eyes, but let himself smile too. "Things are different now."

"Yes. Better and worse." Yep, there was that fatalistic crap again. "I hope we're doing the right thing, Dean."

"Jessica's alive. At least twelve people who died last time are still alive and staying that way, and we've barely started. This is good, Cas. Don't jinx us."

"Jinxes don't exist. You're thinking of curses."

"Whatever, Harry Potter. This is good, Cas, and if S–" His throat locked up.

"If Sam had come back with us," Cas finished gently, "he'd be happy to see all these lives saved. Especially Jessica's."

"Yeah. That," he forced out. "That."

Cas said nothing, kept looking out at the kids while Dean pulled himself together. Good guy, Cas.

"There he is."

Dean looked up. Took him a few seconds, following Cas's pointed finger, but once he saw Kevin, it was unmistakable: Tidy mop of black hair, big eyes, bigger grin, running away from another moppet with a book in his hand, waving it like a victory flag and laughing. Cas tilted his head, listening. "The other boy is complaining that he should let them copy his homework."

"That's our Kev," Dean said, smiling.

Cas nodded. "He seems very happy."

For a minute, they just watched as Kevin sprinted around the playground, nine years old and with all the brilliant spark of the kid they'd known, and Dean tried very, very hard to only think about the times Kevin had been happy: The gleam in his eyes when he'd figured something out, the way his face lit up at the apple pie birthday cake he and Sam had thrown together in the bunker's kitchen, how he'd screwed his face up hard trying not to laugh at how horribly off-key their singing was, how he'd teared up a little when he thanked them. "He's going to have a great life this time."

"If you two creeps don't get your beady eyes off my son _right_ now–" Dean whirled around "–I am calling the cops."

Linda Tran, all five-foot-one of her, was bearing down on them like a thunderstorm. Hands on hips, glaring, phone in one hand and take-no-shit scowl on her face. She raised the phone like a knife. "Don't think I won't."

"Hey, hey!" Dean got to his feet, hands raised in surrender. "Misunderstanding, promise."

"I saw you." She jabbed a finger in his face, then Cas's. "You've been looking right at him, no one else, since you got here. Who the hell are you?"

"We're thinking of adopting," Cas said evenly. Dean felt his face get hot. 

"Um– er, yeah. That."

Linda hesitated, studying them with narrowed eyes. "This isn't an orphanage."

"Dean believes any child over ten would be too old to accept a new family. I said he hasn't been around enough children that age to judge. We're here to prove him wrong."

How Cas managed the blank innocent face, Dean had no idea, but it looked too much like Sam's to not be an imitation. Linda was still frowning, but her eyes softened as she looked between them. "Hrm. And why should I believe that?"

Dean spread his hands. "You don't have to. We're just driving through town anyway on our way to the, uh, adoption place. We won't come back."

She eyed him, jabbing her phone at his face. "Be sure you don't." She walked away briskly, glancing back a few times, and took a seat with some other mothers about a quarter of the way round the playground, watching them carefully and murmuring warnings. Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder and started back to the car.

"I think she believed us," Cas said.

"You think? Geez, Cas, when did you become such a good liar?"

Cas looked a little sheepish. "It was dialogue from one of the less popular fiction texts Metatron inserted into my memory. "

Dean snorted. "Good to know that ratbag did _some_ good when he ruined your chance to ever watch Star Wars without knowing all the plot twists. Can't wait to kill him," he added darkly.

"He's on the list."

Whirling his keychain round his finger, Dean unlocked the '65 Mustang that was _not_ Baby, and for that he'd never forgive it. Climbing in, he looked past Cas at the playground one more time: Kevin had lapped the climbing frame again and was running to his mom, still waving that stupid homework book. She shook her head fondly as he barrelled into the adults, kissed his head and took the book, and sent him back to play. 

Kevin grinned and ran again, cartwheeling over the grass. 

He'd be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Kevin's birthday in the bunker comes directly from [Osric's fanfic](https://www.facebook.com/KevinTranAP/posts/10151804646842616).


End file.
